Граф Орлов
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Mark picks up the bow, arrows(?), dagger, and throwing knives. He was glad that his favorite weapon was unharmed, but there was still one more thing he needed to take care of in this room.
- Hey, buddy, - he said to Stavros, - I noticed that a golden amulet with a ruby ended up in your hands, and it turns out it belongs to me. - "Or at least it used to." - Would you be so kind as to return it to me?
Stavros picked up his axe, but he didn't throw away the sword.
Let's go.
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza,
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers